Photo: Lennard Island at the entrance to Clayoquot Sound.

It had rained so hard the day before that the idea of not going out just because of a heavy mist and seas of two-to-three meters seemed sissy. The rumble of sport fishing boat engines at 6 am made it easy to think we were doing the normal thing. But when we got out in the ocean and Osprey rolled and pitched, I wasn’t so sure.

Steve looked at the wind speed (light to moderate) and direction (on our nose) and said, “ We can take six hours to sail or three hours to motor.” We motored.

Three hours later, when we passed Lennard Island at the entrance to Clayoquot Sound, I couldn’t imagine pitching and rolling like that for another three hours. Three had been too much! We turned down wind, rolled out the jib and raced up Father Charles Channel into Clayoquot Sound. We’d seen only one other boat at a distance, a power boat close to shore. Where had all those courageous sports fishermen gone? Sailing in June felt lonely.